Should I Be Sorry?
by Veneficus
Summary: Continuation of Mourn MY Freedom. This time, it’s Severus’ POV. Warnings and author’s note inside. SSHG.


A/N: This is as continuation (of sorts) of my fic, Mourn MY Freedom. I was kinda put out with the amount of reviews Mourn MY Freedom received. I don't know if you guys liked it or hated it. But leaving reviews can solve the problem ;p. Still, thanks to my two awesome reviewers! You guys made my day.

**Sydney-Black-** No I do not mind. I'm actually quite honored _(blushes)_ . Write your story and tell me when it's finished so I can read it! ; )

**Natsuyori**- _(blushes)_ thank you, thank you, thank you.

WARNING: Snape is well...Snape. He is not cuddly, he is not nice. Also, I don't want to make fun of suicide, or people who commit it. It's just a story. If some one's offended, well sorry. And kids, don't do this at home!

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**Should I Be Sorry?**

By Veneficus3

I'm sorry, I couldn't give her what she expected. I'm sorry I'm not a prince on a white horse. Actually I'm not sorry about that. But I am sorry, that she painted me in a shade that doesn't do just to my true self, a shade too bright to be me.

_Should I be sorry?_

_For not loving you,_

_for being me?_

She painted me in a white shade, with a brush made of fantasy and girlish dreams.

I'm not sure if I should laugh or mourn her stupidity. For a witch that thought herself so bright, she was the most naive and foolish I've ever known. Ok, the second most foolish, for Potter comes first, but he is a wizard anyway.

_Warnings and cries are for naught._

_For you think without a thought._

_And you love without respect._

I tried to warn her that I was not the honorable prince she thought me to be. Me getting involved with her while she was a student was proof enough. But no...Ms. Know-It-All had to ignore me, and had to prove herself to be in the house where the Hat placed her.

How should I know that besides being a Gryffindor, she would also be suicidal?

_I never thought you would be this way._

_I don't love you._

_That's the end._

It was not my fault she didn't know how to choose her friends. It's not my fault she pictured me in her head as the hero I'm not. It's not my fault she fell in love with me. I showed her some very pleasant times while she was with me. I was civil. I wasn't sarcastic. Not much anyway. What else did she want? Flowers? Hearts? Romance? I never promised those things to her. Actually I never promised her anything.

_Don't think of me as a God send._

_For I'm the Devil itself._

_Run! That's all you can do._

I tried stopping her. I did. I called her name. But did she hear me? Noooo. In a fit, she was already plunging herself off the tower. Silly girl. Maybe she thought she was immortal. Or maybe she killed herself trying to escape something. Isn't that a thing of today's youth? Especially foolish, Gryffindor youth?

I didn't have time to grab her. When I reached the edge of the tower, she was already a show of blood and bones I don't know how many floors down.

_I couldn't save you._

_You never saved me._

_Run! Let me be._

I went to her funeral and everything. It was...a funeral I suppose. Not terribly sad. Few people attended. And the only people misty eyed were McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley. Not many classmates went neither. They didn't like her. They still don't.

Potter and his cohort, looked somber. Their friend had died after all. The least they could do was keep up appearances. Or maybe they were really mourning. Now, that they didn't have the walking-encyclopedia to do their homework for them, grades were bound to slip. Badly.

Dumbledore served as the Priest. He talked about immortality and no definite goodbyes. Ironic, for she didn't get neither. Not that I blame her! I don't like goodbyes either. Such unnecessary waste of time. And immortality, well that might be a bit boring, no? Living for eternity and all that rubbish. Wouldn't one get tired of living? Oh well. I hope I won't get such touching and boring speech on my funeral.

_And you died._

_But I live._

_You finally left me alone._

_May angels love you between their midst._

_For I don't love you anymore._

The last thing she said to me before she died was: "You have a black, black heart, you bastard. I hope you suffer like I do."

Boo-ooh. Poor little Gryffindor. At least she wasn't a good-wisher Hufflepuff. And the "black heart" part, well, I guess she wasn't such a dunderhead after all. Oh well.

She's dead. I'm alive. The world goes on.

THE END

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A/N: Please read and review. Tell me what you thought about it. Criticism is accepted, but be gentle tho. I'm doing this for FREE. Personally, I liked Mourn MY Freedom better. Sometime later on, I might change this one. Sayonara dear readers!


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